All Flowers Die

Four

The next morning, Marigold called me.

"Wanna' get together sometime?" she said.

"Uh, sure. When?"

"Today?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Great! I'll be right over!"

I don't usually like people who are obsessive, but it's okay with Marigold. She's basically just making up for the time we won't have together when she's dead.

Soon, she was at my house. I got to meet her mom, who drove her here. She seemed nice. I felt so bad for her. She looked so sad, so lonely, which didn't surprise me-her only daughter was dying.

We went inside for a while. We had some snacks, watched TV for a while, and then we went up to my room. While we were there, we watched Star Wars, played video games, and talked for a while. At about eight, we went outside.

We laid on the hammock, watching the sun set into the trees miles away, me hugging Marigold tightly, never wanting to let go.

"I love you, Marigold."

"I love you too."

"I'm gonna' miss you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said, "I can't even begin to explain how much I love you, and I can't explain how thankful I am that I get this much time with you."

I wish I had more time.